In 2023, my life changed forever when I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma, stage 1B, ER/PR positive breast cancer.

What we thought was one diagnosis quickly became a much more aggressive battle. Within just a month, my cancer had progressed to stage 3 and had spread to my lymph nodes. It was moving frighteningly fast.

I underwent a double mastectomy, followed by 16 weeks of aggressive chemotherapy and 33 rounds of radiation. From the beginning of my diagnosis through March 2025, I endured five surgeries and countless procedures, appointments, complications, and days when simply getting through the day felt like an accomplishment.

But my battle didn’t end when treatment ended.

Because my cancer is considered high risk for recurrence, I was prescribed a hormone blocker to help prevent my cancer from coming back. Unfortunately, my body rejected the medication. Now, I face another major surgery—a hysterectomy—as part of my ongoing effort to reduce my risk of recurrence.

And this is something I wish more people understood about cancer:

We are never really told we are “cancer free.” We are told there is “no evidence of disease.”

There is a difference.

The physical and mental effects of cancer treatment can continue long after the last chemotherapy infusion or radiation treatment. I continue to live with the lasting effects and complications of everything my body has been through. There are things people don’t see—things that don’t show up on scans but affect you every single day.

And there is an emotional cost that is just as real.

My children and my husband have been my driving force through every moment of this journey. My greatest prayer is that I will be here to watch my children finish college, build their careers, fall in love, and someday have families of their own.

Cancer took time from us that I can never get back.

I missed my daughter’s prom. I missed my son’s football games. I missed countless everyday moments with my children because I was too sick to be the mom I had always been—the “super mom” who was there for everything.

Those are the losses people don’t always see when they hear the words “breast cancer survivor.”

And then there is my husband.

He carried me through this battle in every possible way. He dressed me when I couldn’t dress myself. He bathed me when I couldn’t do it on my own. He physically carried me when I couldn’t walk. He sat beside me through every surgery, every treatment, every setback, and every frightening moment.

I truly could not have continued without him.

Today, I walk not because my journey is over, but because I am still here.

I walk for my children.I walk for my husband.I walk for the years I still hope to have with my family.I walk for the woman I was before cancer and the woman I have become because of it.And I walk for every person who is still fighting, every survivor navigating life after treatment, and every family who has been changed forever by this disease.

My team is called Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken because that is what I believe.

Cancer can take a lot from you. It can change your body, your plans, your family, your confidence, and your understanding of life.

But it cannot take away our hope.

This walk is also about bringing more awareness to what happens after treatment. Survivors need support, resources, research, and understanding long after they ring the bell. The mental and physical toll of cancer doesn’t disappear when treatment ends.

I am asking for your support—not just for me, but for everyone who has been touched by breast cancer.

Every donation, no matter the amount, helps support the fight for better treatments, better outcomes, more research, and more support for those living with and beyond breast cancer.

I am incredibly grateful to everyone who chooses to walk beside me, donate, share my story, or simply keep my family in your thoughts and prayers.

I have fought hard to still be here.

And my wild heart isn’t broken.

It is still beating. ❤